


Moon Forged from Steel

by Aurea_the_Auramonster



Category: Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan
Genre: And now me and The Fam are writing this double-sided story, Blood, Gen, I REGRET NOTHIIIIING, It was 3 in the morning when I came with this, It's narrated and told from the POV of a horse, It's one big volley of cursewords tbh, Lots of it, Narrated like Black Beauty, Violence, War, cursing, lots of death, no joke
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-05-28
Updated: 2017-05-29
Packaged: 2018-11-06 02:57:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,614
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11027157
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Aurea_the_Auramonster/pseuds/Aurea_the_Auramonster
Summary: [Hatius]]It was supposed to be a simple out-of-bounds discovery trip, but it turned into Hell on Earth. A unusual colored gets trapped inside the walls on accident. All she wants is to escape, but as a humanoid trapped in the body of an equine, she understands every word the people around her say, every action they take, and slowly realizes the immense danger they are in. So she does what she believes is right: she joins the battle.





	1. Title: Commander

**Author's Note:**

> Okay people! This is probably the best or worst story idea I've ever had. No middle ground. We'll see where it goes I guess. Oh, and be sure to check out Chaimutt, the one who came to me saying this idea was badass and who I'm now throwing plots around with! She's writing a similar story to this one. In fact, it's actually the same story, but from a completely different perspective...

Commander.  
Odd as it sounds, I never expected this to become my title when I went on this trip. I expected it to be a brief exploration with a friend, but it turned into something which is balancing on the unusually thin line between amazing and hell on Earth. Commander. That's my rank now, and the way I prefer to be addressed, so get used to it. I am a soldier, a leader, in a military organisation adapted to the threat of the most unholy creatures known to man: the titans.

Titans, or as I knew them before, giants. Deformed, mindless humanoids with heights ranging from 3 to as tall as 60 meters up, known for their brute strength, unusually high agility and infamous taste for human flesh. And only human flesh. I haven't been around as long, but they say the titans appeared over 100 years ago and drove humanity to extinction so quickly nobody had time to react. The small amount of humans left hid behind three enormous walls, which was their only way to repel the bloodthirsty creatures from brutally murdering the remainder of their species.

As a commander in such a specialised military, life isn't easy in the slightest. Like I said, I haven't been here long, barely long enough to get used to this life in fact. That is unimportant however. While human food isn't exactly availiable in large quantities, proper houses are hard to find and the upper class of this society - a classed society, what a medieval prospect - is definitely corrupt, I get along fairly okay. I wander, usually. I don't like sleeping in one place, it makes me feel too predictable. No, I prefer to keep my subordinates guessing in as many ways as possible.

For those of you wondering: No, I'm not Commander Erwin. Thank the walls for that, I don't think I could live a normal life with eyebrows of that magnitude. I'm not the commander of the human branch of the Survey Corps; I'm in charge of the equine branch, usually referred to as the Equine Corps instead. This part of the Survey Corps includes about 600 horses, spread out along with the human soldiers across walls Rose and Sina. My rank in the Equine Corps is the equivalent of commander Erwin's rank in the Survey Corps.

 

The Equine Corps. My very own army. The existence of my branch is the very reason the Survey Corps can do what is was meant to. Of course the Equine Corps wouldn't really go anywhere without the humans of the Survey Corps either, so it's a nice mutually beneficial thing. The major difference between the two branches however, is that the humans get the choice wether or not they want to become a soldier. Nine out of ten times, the horses do not. Of course there are horses who voluntarily join the regiment, but most horses are bought off the market and put under my command over the course of a day, without them having any time to catch on.

Most horses know exactly two things about the Survey Corps when they first get here: one, it's the highest honor a horse could ever hope to achieve, and two, you do not want to be a part of it. The death toll for the humans is marginally higher than those of the horses, but that doesn't change the fact that my branch also suffers casualties, wether it be from being in the line of fire from a normal titan or from abnormals who decide a last minute meal change might be good for their diet. With this in mind it's easy to see why the rookies are always placed in quarantine for a week, aside from the obvious reasons, such as disease. While in quarantine, everything is explained to them by other soldiers: Where they are, why they're here and what they're expected to do. Most freak out, some shut down, and the rare ones that are brave enough to face it break the hardest once I show my face.

Regardless if they're horse or human, it has been and always will be like this: The rookies fear me, the soldiers are intimidated by me, the squad leaders look up to me, the subcommanders want to be me, and after a week or two the betallion leaders slowly realize their commander is a moron. I will neither confirm nor deny that I practiced my terrifyingly intimidating glare in the mirror of Hange's barracks until I was scared of it myself, as it serves it's purpose in the field of command regardless. Unlike what most people think I am fully aware of my ability to silence an entire room by just sweeping my eyes over it, and maybe even clear it in the span of ten seconds if it's a room filled with cadets. Personally, I think that if me and The Keith both death glare at the same time, we can definitely clear the campus in under a minute. Lucky that has never happened before.

The brave break the hardest, but they break the hardest. What I mean by that is that the 1% that doesn't freak out as soon as they realize they're going to be military are the most difficult to break, but once they do, they break completely (and usually don't look me directly in the eye for two to three months). While this can be slightly disruptive in their training, these usually grow to be the best soldiers, fearless and powerful. I always mark this 1% - it's obvious if a horse is brave by heart - and make sure to have them paired with the best human partners when the time for that comes.

Speaking of human partners, I don't have one. You'd say I'd have commander Erwin as my rider, but to be honest, I work best as a solo unit, which is exactly what my Roller Gear was designed for. No saddle, no standard rider: this horse has a large, and by that I mean human-sized brain and can use it perfectly well without someone on my back kicking me in the side thank you very much.

 

I met commander Erwin almost immediately after I entered the walls. With eyebrows capable of containing a small universe and an unmatched mind for strategic management, this guy was born to lead the Survey Corps. To me he appeared to be the typical 'everybody's dad', the one who people call dad or father on accident (he also appeared to know each and every soldier by name, which was nothing short of impressive). He was stern, but he had the right sense of humor when necessary, on top of an unrivaled drive to succeed in the mission to exterminate the titans. We clicked from the beginning, a working relationship based on mutual understanding and respect, and we were of the same rank and pretty much on the same line from that moment on.

In complete contrast with Erwin, my first contact with corporal Shrimp- I mean, Levi, did not nearly go as smoothly. From the second I saw the little guy I knew I was going to have a thorough hatred of him. And guess what? I was right. He had a nasty temper (it was SHORT), absolutely no respect for anyone other than himself and was always bitching about SOMETHING. On top of that, he was a total clean freak, and hygiene is not something I'm that concerned with except when it comes to food. He always stuck his nose where it didn't belong and though I admit was is one hell of a fighter and had balls so large they were not the slightest bit proportionate to the rest of his body size, he was and still is a straight up dick. Even today I do not understand how Hange could've put up with him as long as she has.

Ah, Hange. The titan scientist and highly skilled member of the S.C. is the first - and best - friend I made inside the walls. One night, after my arrival within the walls, I was sneaking into the titan pen because I was curious as to why the hell humans would want titans so close to them. I strolled in there, as casual as a horse could look and there was Hange, furiously scribbling stuff into a notebook while mumbling to herself, all this less than a meter away from two heaving, near-drooling titans. In the four days that followed I continued to show up in the titan pen during the night, and every time, Hange would be there. It took her those four days to figure out one very important thing about me: I could flawlessly understand and - though with difficulty because of the shape of my mouth - even replicate human speech. After the scientist came to the conclusion that I was not only sentient, but also possessed a human level of intelligence, I was in the Survey Corps drawing out my own gear and the plans for the Equine Corps in a matter of days.

As a tribute to this, Hange is the only human who can fully sit on me without getting thrown off: any other human that uses me for transport during battle hangs off my side. To explain what the Roller Gear is in detail would take me longer than walking over the entirety of wall Rose, so I'll keep it brief. Basically, it's a leather harness of sorts, with short leather straps functioning as stirrups around my back and grip rings around my shoulders. There was no halter or bridle involved and any other attempt to change my direction would simply be ignored; I'll steer myself, thanks human. The purpose of the harness is to carry two soldiers at once while they're hanging from my side, giving them a momentum boost before they take to the sky again using ODM gear.

The most prominent thing about my gear is what's attached to my hinds. Two heavily enforced, remotely controlled, 1.2 meter blades that are rolled up on the outside of my legs and can be stretched to point forward at any time. There's a loop around my leather collar, and if I pull on that, both blades with unfurl and be able to slice through the nape of a titan as easily as a hot knife through butter. Because they're rolled up however they're not easily replenishable, so I have to choose my targets carefully. Nevertheless I am the only horse in the entire Survey Corps who's spilled titan blood by themselves. 

 

Like I said before, the equine branch of the Survey Corps counts about 600 horses. Of course, as only one horse there is no way I could control and organise the actions of 600+ horses on my own. So, I drew up a system. I split the entirety of the horses into 6 betallions of 100, each with a betallion leader in control of them. All six leaders of them take orders directly from me and must answer to me at all times, giving me a better insight into the actions of each betallion unit.

However, because 100 horses are still too many for one horse to oversee, I upgraded that system quite quickly after it's first using. Each betallion leader would have 2 advisors and 10 sub-advisors, the subcommanders and the squad leaders. Each betallion has 2 subcommanders who each organise and supervise one half of the betallion, and they recieve reports from their half of the squad leaders.

The squad leaders are with 10 in each betallion and are in control of a unit of 10 horses. They usually report to their subcommander, but in cases of extreme importance they report directly to their betallion leader. They can give orders to their own squad (also referred to as 'unit') as long as they don't stray from the ones their betallion leader or subcommander gave them. They also each have a subleader; the horse second in command of a unit and the one to become squad leader if he or she gets injured or killed, and the one to help organise each unit properly.

Through this entire command structure, information can be passed through at incredibly high speeds. This goes for orders that need to reach the soldiers, as well as reports that need to reach me. While I usually don't flaunt, I can't say I'm not incredibly proud of having made up this system and put it into motion in a span of three days. With the help of Hange, of course.

 

...Commander. I never expected this to become my title.

With a sigh, I walk up to the edge of the wall and stare down at the tall, deformed humanoids clawing uselessly at the stone. My gaze slowly falls to my own hooves: a grey color that turns black quite suddenly once the nail reaches the edge of my legs. I scan up my own body, and only when I reach my stomach do the limbs turn as white as the rest of me. I catch a glimpse of my mane - the same dark color as my legs and nose - before uncurling my neck to turn it in the direction of my back, where my marking was proudly displayed on my hindquarters, again, in a deep black. I stood the tallest of any horse in my army at 1.75 meters, basically making me one big, walking yin-yang. All except for my eyes. They were blue at the bottom, green at the top, and had pupils that I had full conscious control over. I could widen them to big round spheres, as well as slitten them into a sharp, thin vertical line: one of my many oddities as a horse.

I stared at the mountains in the distance and noticed the moon was already visible, despite it being early in the evening and with the sun barely setting. I squinted my eyes - slitted my pupils, that's why they can do that, it limits my vision but it becomes sharper than a hawk's - and chuckled. A golden sky and, coincidentally, half a moon.

That's my name. Half Moon.

I turned my back to the sky as well as the crawling mob of titans 50 meters below me and prepared to get back down with the next lift that came around. My forever refilling stack of paperwork was waiting for me.


	2. Orvud plaza

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Once low on horses the Survey Corps goes to the main plaza within wall Sina to get new ones, and commander Half Moon discovers a very unusual horse is being sold to serve under her command...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's simple, short and shitty. At least this one is done...

The latest expedition had been a complete bust. The Survey Corps lost at least a fourth of the 5th betallion. Getting new soldiers was one thing, a thing often considered to be a pain, but the amount of horses lost was a bit harder to fix. They actually had to be bred and with how little there were within the inner walls when wall Maria fell, the breeding process had stunted. Of course you couldn't get new horses that fast either way, there were simply too little of them, and thus the Survey Corps had to go look within wall Sina for horse owners who were willing to sell their equine property.

Which was easier said than done. Horses were worth a fortune and anyone lucky to own one wouldn't be very willing to sell it. Usually, the horses they did manage to get were somewhat old or had physical problems that made them good for nothing other than breeding. Rarely did they get any horses capable of becoming part of the Corps. However, even for a chance that small, the soldiers went in with guns blazing. 

Meaning I better get my gear on, because we were going to the Orvud district plaza. It was the unofficial horse market of the walls, and I wasn't sure if I loved or hated it. I'd seen horses get dragged away from their loved ones as well as the other way around, and seen the 'poor' of the population lose their only valuable asset, making their only shot at a better life fly by them. I chose to ignore it; it wasn't as if I had anything to do with that. All I had to do was let the rookie horses know who was the boss. Which was me, of course. I'd overthrown every single one of them, from the youngest foal to the most arrogant and powerful war horse. So I tried to see the market exchanges as additions to the equine branch rather than the painful ripaway it actually was. I'm a soldier, a battle horse, and there wasn't much room in my heart for sentiment.

 

I marched through the stable complex, my heavy presence creating a tad of commotion under the horses stationed there. Most saluted, their hooves clanging dully on the straw. Some whickered softly in greeting. Others shrank back into a corner and fearfully avoided eye contact with me. I acknowledged every different response with continued swishes of my tail and flicks of my ear, steadily marching on until I reached the tack room, where my Roller Gear was hung proudly on it's stand on the left, surrounded by bridles, saddles, blankets and girths, along with the heap of stirrups and bits sprinkles on the floor. 

I lifted my legs high and made my way over to the large stand. I pulled my gear - consisting only of leather straps, steel buckles and two very fashionable mini Survey Corps blankets, nothing more - off and over my head with a practiced flick of my teeth, shaking it over my neck until the main body piece, along with my shoulder straps (they always stayed attacked to the main piece) was in place. I gathered my leg- and secondary body straps, pulling them to their proper places and fastening their silver buckles. The double-buckled girth was always the most difficult to put on because of the small blanket that had to go under it, and after two failed tries, I managed to grab the strap before the blanket could fall and fastened it. To the wrong buckle. I groaned in frustration, pulled it out and fastened it to the correct buckle, strapping the second piece of leather to its steel counterpart as well and checking my work. I pulled out two buckleless straps (the makeshift stirrups) and fastened them to the double buckles on the side of my body gear. I began my search for the grip rings before I realized they had still been attached to my body gear when I put it on. 

After five minutes, all my body gear was in place. What else did I need? Smoke pouches? Already wearing those, and refilled them yesterday. Blades? Nah, I wasn't gonna need them. ...But they made me look like a badass. So yeah, definitely. 

Walking around the tack room - where the hell had I put those hind leg protectors and why did they not have a fixed spot for them yet, lousy Survey Corps cleaning people - I found my leg protectors and put them into place. I pulled the rolled up blades out of their holders and clicked them onto the protectors, attaching the ends of the ropes for their remote control to the ones already inside her body gear. I pulled the loop attached to my collar piece and, as I expected, the blades unfurled and rolled themselves into straight, 1.2 meter titan-slaying swords. I let go of the loop and the blades rapidly rolled themselves back up, into their resting position at the outside of my hind legs. With a satisfied grin, I walked out of the tack room and straight to the exit of the stable complex. 

 

On my way to the plaza, I spotted the only human in the Survey Corps that was allowed to actually sit on me. Hange Zoe was standing on the sidewalk, staring hard at something she had written down in her titan notebook while mumbling incoherently to herself. 

In one word? Nuts. Hange was extremely intelligent, stubborn, and honorable, as well as the scariest when mad. But while she was steel-nerved and by no means stupid, she was the definition of crazy. Always getting too close to titans, jumping down too far for her gear to handle, or running into doors that are clearly closed. I'd made it a point to check on her in the titan pen at least once a day, just in case she crawled into Bean's mouth yelling "For science!!!" or something else that was totally ridiculous, 'cause if that was the case I'd have to take notes. Okay, I admit, I'm just as titan-crazy as Hange, but while she's more invested in the biology and anatomy, I'm more oriented on their behavior. We've both done some stupid shit while dicking around with titans, even going as far as to pull out a tooth to see if titans could actually make mad tooth fairy cash. Results? Yes, they could.

At the moment Hange didn't seem to be aware of the world around her - something that happened a lot when she was reading - and I had to walk up to her, push her with my entire head and make the scientist stumble before getting the attention I wanted. Hange shrieked and was about to get angry, but when she saw who had tried to wake her from her otherworldly state of mind, she eased up and came to me. I bent down with a playful noise to give a snuggle. Hange ruffled my mane in return, making me hop back. She snorted at me. I snorted back twice as loud.

When I tugged on Hange's messy ponytail, the woman grinned and pat my neck. "You're in a good mood, eh Eychem?" 

No, I wasn't. I proved her statement false when I slowly scraped my hoof over the cobblestones and hung my head. The humans understood this kind of body language, and Hange knelt to look me in the eye. "Horse plaza day huh?"

I nodded and recieved a reassuring pat from my friend. I growled lowly in appreciation and I helped my friend up by letting her hang on to my neck as I raised my head. I stepped to the side, an invitation to climb on, which the scientist took gladly; Hange easily swung herself onto my tall stature with her left foot and put her other foot in the leather stirrup meant for it. She grabbed the grip rings and I reared slightly before jumping into a slow canter, heading straight to the trading plaza.

 

It was one big mess. There was people everywhere and I could not get a solid grip on where the hell the rest of the Survey Corps was at. Probaply back at HQ taking shots every time that little loudmouth Jeager said 'titans'. The thought had barely entered my mind or I saw Keith, the instructor at the academy and a surprisingly good friend of mine, despite our significant differences. Of course he'd be here. If anybody was loyal to his job, it was him. 

After spotting The Keith (that's what Hange called him, and HM picked it up), I discovered the soldiers, both Survey Corps and Garrison, on the plaza as well. All of them were near several horse-powered wagons that were for moving trading supplies. There were several horses tied to the backs of the carts already, mostly bay and one a shadowy dark grey. Some of them looked very happy with their situation, others were almost fearful. I stared at them with a cold expression. Fresh meat. 

The offbeat clacking of unwilling hooves on hard cobblestone in my left ear made me turn her head. Several horses were led onto the plaza. Two small bay ones, a tall black stallion and- the collosal titan on a stick. No, not literally, but there was a roan. A mustang roan. I slitted my pupils for a sharper vision of the stubborn horse being pulled over the crowded plaza. The first thing I'd leaned when I got here was how unusual my coat was; the fact that I had an actual white coat was already legendary, let alone the pure black legs, mane, and tail. I'd rarely seen any horse color other than bay or a dark grey tint, and never had I seen a roan here before. It was a dark, apple brown with white splashed all over the muscled underside, as well as on it's hinds and face. One hell of a pattern to have within the walls.

It - she - appeared to not like her current situation all that much; she was pulling and hopping in place, making fearful noises along the way. Nervous thing. It was being pulled along by an old man, who approached Keith and started a conversation. Hange, who had been strolling around for a bit, walked over to Keith as well and watched from a distance; I stayed where I was to keep a close eye on the entirety of the plaza, but mostly on the horses being sold to the Survey Corps. The roan was one of them. I sighed inwardly; the horse was not fit for a soldier's duty. The poor soul had no idea of how dangerous the outside world REALLY was. I let out an amused snort at the thought of having to break this one under me; it'd be a sinch.

 

The roan whinnied fearfully and reared ever so slightly at what was said, and it got I curious. I inwardly praised my hypersensitive hearing and flawlessly filtered out the conversation between the owner of the roan and The Keith. "Oh, that?" Said the old man, but I hadn't caught what he was referencing to. "Don't worry, she's just fine with one eye. Sturdy as can be."

I did a double take. One eye? Did he mean her left eye was out of commission?! All the alarm bells inside my head began ringing. Uh-oh. I'd have to stop-

Too late. Keith had nodded and Hange had grabbed the lead of the scared mare before I had a chance to move and break off the purchase. Sweet tapdancing titans. That meant I'd have to deal with an invalid... A general pain in the tailbone. I'd trained horses like that under my command before, but there hadn't been a single one who survived their first battle. Aside from the fact that the mare would untrainable because of her eye, I wanted to spare her the fate of dying the second she stepped outside the walls.

 

The scared roan was tied to a cart along with the other horses the old man had brought, and I decided to inspect and break them when they got to the stables and let them be for now. They were under enough pressure as it was. After the encounter with the old man, several more horses were sold to the Corps, and after about forty minutes, all tie posts were taken by brand-new trainee horses. I turned around as the plaza began to get less and less crowded, walking in the general direction of the stables. I didn't get to do anything, but I didn't regret showing up. At least I knew what I'd be in for when the rookies were brought in. I pondered the showing of the mustang roan in particular and what I could possibly do with her, and I barely noticing Hange leaping on when I passed her and The Keith. I wasn't sure why the horse had peeked my interest to this extent, but at the time, I didn't care. All I could think about was how that horse was either untrainable or as good as dead if it couldn't keep up...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please comment on this guys! I wanna know if I did good... And point out any typos, I can stand those things.
> 
> Half Moon: When do I get to curse?  
> Me: Oh put a sock in it will you? I'm busy enough as it is.  
> Half Moon: Hmph.

**Author's Note:**

> Before you all go off on me, yes, this is my first ever published story so don't stab me to death if I'm not that good at this yet. I'll try to update regularly, but I'm a bit of a scatterbrain, so don't be afraid to nag about an update (if yall even want one), I'll need a whip under my ass every once in a while.
> 
> Half Moon: You know, I'm much more of an asshole than how you just set me up.  
> Me: Oh believe me, I know. And I'll be sure to write that out for you once titans start hitting the fan.  
> Half Moon: Appreciated.


End file.
